


[H]armatia

by Goombella123



Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: Being 9S Is Suffering, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Feelings, Mutual Pining, Pre-Canon, mild robogore, mild robot cannibalism, please finish the game before reading this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 01:24:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17971820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goombella123/pseuds/Goombella123
Summary: We all have our flaws- some just happen to be easier to exploit than others.





	[H]armatia

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have an editor or nuthin so if there are any unholy flaws feel free to tell me
> 
>  
> 
> [ also RT my art about this](https://twitter.com/DanG_Art_/status/1102141513981583360)

 

 

It’s always fascinated 9S, how the City Ruins spans larger than it initially appears. Each time he thinks he’s got it all figured out, Command will assign him to another part he hasn’t seen before.

 

It seems humanity really did gather everything here, once upon a time.

 

9S surveys it all from where he’s perched, atop a half-built, half-destroyed skyscraper. Located nice and close to the Resistance Camp, but not so close as to have to hear their chatter, thankfully.

 

A leg drifts lazily towards his chest, the other spread out in front of him; 9S’s left foot dangles several meters in the air, just off the building’s ledge. He can’t feel the wind chill through his leather boots, but his shorts expose a good part of his thigh, and his temperature sensors have never been faulty.

 

Humans apparently had little hairs on their skin that would prick up when it was cold. He finds that fact fascinating.

 

**[Alert: Incoming message.]**

 

Pod 153 chirps, and 9S snaps out of his thoughts almost comically. The screen that appears with every alert shifts over to a static-y version of his operator’s face- her stern visage scowling down at him from the bunker.

 

“Unit 9S.” Operator 21O says, her voice crackling with radio noise. “The mission you were assigned to was supposed to commence an _hour_ ago. Our signals show you are not within your intended area.”

 

“I know, I know.” 9S says, hastily. “I’ve been waiting to rendezvous with 2B, but she hasn’t shown up yet.”

 

“Have you tried contacting her?”

 

“She hasn’t responded. She usually doesn’t, if it’s me.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Would you like me to do something about that?”

 

9S traps an annoyed groan bubbling in his throat.

 

“It would help, yes.” he replies.

 

“Alright.”

 

He hears the clacking of a keyboard, and something that suspiciously sounds like a chuckle.

 

“Operator, are you... laughing at me?”

 

“No.” Operator 21O says. “Anyway, I’ve contacted 6O and asked for her Unit’s co-ordinates. It seems she hasn’t been able to contact 2B either, for whatever reason. I’m sending the data through.”

 

As promised, a little marker appears on 9S’s digital map- the location of 2B. At a glance, position seems... highly unusual. She isn’t within her designated area, either.

 

“It looks like she’s underground somewhere. That’s weird.” 9S frowns.

 

“Unit 2B is known to be both punctual and efficient.” 21O muses. “It is unusual of her to be late, let alone in the wrong position.”

 

“But it’s not unusual for me, huh?” 9S retorts jokingly.

 

“I’ll rescind my assumptions _if_ you can prove yourself otherwise.” 21O drawls. “My advice is that you should be proceeding towards your intended area as soon as you can. I’m sure everything is fine on Unit 2B’s end... she’s capable enough on her own.” 

 _She’s capable enough without you_ , she means.

 

Operator 21O’s haughtiness almost annoys 9S, for once.

 

Regardless, she closes out the briefing like nothing is wrong. “Is there anything else you need?” she asks.

 

“Not right now, thanks.” 9S replies, a frown forming on his face. 2B’s supposed co-ordinates really are in a weird location…

 

9S begins to stand.

 

He straps his satchel back over his shoulders, makes sure his boots are on properly, and adjusts his combat visor. When he begins to descend on foot, Pod 153 faithfully follows.

 

Of course, he isn’t headed to where he’s _supposed_ to be. He wouldn’t be 9S if he actually followed orders.

 

 

* * *

 

  

 “Shit-“

 

9S had _severely_ misjudged his leap, now hurtling towards the ground from the roof of one of the City’s buildings. He tucks into a roll last second, but still feels his shoulder and hip creak with the impact- _ouch!_

 

When he stands up- groaning under his breath- they’re throbbing, and he has a slight bit of a limp.

 

Still. It’s nothing worth stopping over. 2B’s marker is leading him out of the Ruins proper, further than he anticipated, and that fact alone is concerning enough to make haste his priority.

 

The buildings here are twisted with ancient trees, ones that snake their roots through the structure’s very foundations as they reach for the sun. The Forest Zone is not too far off, so it makes sense; 9S can see its castle vaguely in the distance, a black shadow against green. He walks along the crumpled pavement instead of leaping from roof-to-roof, so its looming structure is but a head-tilt upwards.

 

There’s definitely something ominous about it, but then again, it’s common sense to be scared of things bigger than you.

 

There’s hardly a breeze to be heard, but the wind stops altogether as the buildings begin to lean, and the path becomes denser.

 

A nearby bush rustles.

 

9S, by habit, takes a fighting stance.

 

He’s fully prepared for a machine to jump out at him, or at least a wild boar, but what he sees instead is a bird. A Pidgeon, he thinks, specifically. It takes off without even acknowledging him, though, leaving the whole encounter to be rather anticlimactic.

 

He sighs, trying to relax his shoulders.

 

“Say, aren’t you supposed to have some sort of warning system?”

 

…He was talking to his Pod, but the device tends not to respond unless addressed.

 

9S continues on, and soon notices how the traversable path is narrowing further with vines and becoming quieter, more ominous, by the second. His steps crunch underfoot, interchangeably between dirt and concrete, but nevertheless quicken.

 

The silence is what unnerves him the most about this place. For the amount of greenery he’s seen, he sure hasn’t heard or _sensed_ any real wildlife.

 

“Hey, Pod?” 9S says loudly. “Is there anything you can tell me about that species of bird, ‘Pigeon’?”

 

Pod is always obliged to answer his stupid requests.

 

  **[The ‘Pigeon’ or ‘Dove’ is perhaps the common form of bird on Earth],** it says. **[The most widespread variety, the ‘Rock Dove’, was said to have inhabited a variety of Urban areas during the Era of Humanity.]**

 

“Huh. Neat. They don’t anymore?”

 

**[Unit Identification signal detected. Unit 2B is within range.]**

 

“-Oh.”

 

It appears they’ve arrived. Parting through the dark, vine-dense alleyway, 9S and his Pod emerge into a clearing. Just below them is a large, half-collapsed building- it almost resembles the old commercial facility in the City Ruins. The area around it is so grossly overgrown that almost no light shines through, the grey walls of the place barely illuminated by the yellow glow of the sun. There’s a few rusted signs hanging off it’s face, a flock of birds flying past and a tangle of brown vines, rotting away, a couple of smashed windows…

 

“Pod. Can you pinpoint 2B’s exact location?”

 

 **[Negative]** Pod replies. **[Unit 2B is underground, and therefore cannot be tracked accurately.]**

 

Weird. Almost weirder than 2B being here in the first place. “Why would the humans build an area _underneath_ the facility?”

 

 **[Unknown.]** Pod says.

 

9S clicks his tongue.

 

“Alright. You think you can find me a route through?”

 

**[Hypothesis: There is a large, collapsed area directly in front of Unit 9S.]**

Ah. There is.

 

“…Ok, then.” 9S huffs, heading towards it. “It'd be nice if you could tone down the sass.”

 

**[Any suggestions or requests for system improvement should be referred to the Pod System’s Management officer.]**

 

9S arrives at the collapsed area at the base of the building in little time, wading through a patch of long grass to reach it. 9S supposes that in lieu of a door, blasting his way into the facility would’ve been his second option. Cautiously, he traces part of the crumbled concrete, watching as dust covers his fingertips.

 

“Do you think 2B did this, Pod?” he asks, voice quiet. “Or was it already here?”

 

**[Unclear. Insufficient Data.]**

 

9S sucks on his lower lip thoughtfully.

 

Something akin to an ‘instinct’ is telling him it’s a bad idea to go in. Without the data to back it up, though, he doesn’t know if he should listen. Scanning the inky darkness inside the building isn’t helping, the empty space howling omiously for who-knows how long.

 

But what’s the worst that could happen, really? Other YoRHa have ‘ignoring their feelings’ down to an art form, and nothing horrible has ever happened to _them_ because of it.

 

9S swallows his fear, right down to the bottom of his stomach.

 

“Pod? Flashlight, please.” he requests.

 

Pod 153 obliges, leading the charge inside the abandoned, darkened building.

 

 

 

 Inside, 9S can barely see his own feet in front of him. Even with his low-light sensors turned on, it’d be impossible to make out more than fuzzy shapes without the assistance of his Pod. He has it constantly set to scan- mostly to help find 2B, but also for his own curiosity. The things he can make out in this place look _nothing_ like the commercial facility, now that he's studying it, and he’s programmed to want to know what this area once was.

 

**[Alert: Mid-range visibility area located around ten-point-four meters ahead. Suggestion: Unit 9S should proceed towards it.]**

 

“More light would be helpful.” 9S concedes.

 

Indeed, he can see a faint glow at the end of the hallway. His steps echoing behind him, 9S watches it grow in intensity until he can make out what’s beyond.

 

An unhinged door leads into to a grand foyer-room, where a once decorative ceiling has been infiltrated by plants and sun-rays. They reach into the heart of the place, where a dried-up fountain sits surrounded on each side by a set of broken escalators. Behind the fountain itself is an elevator. This, too, is obviously broken.

 

The place smells green and earthy, but also a little like asbestos.

 

9S looks at the ground below. He’s at least one story above the room, but he’s jumped higher, so he doesn’t hesitate to slip both feet off the edge and glide towards the ground. His Pod slides in for the assist.

 

They manage to land softly, 9S with a grunt, just in front of the dried-up fountain. While it’s not exactly bright 9S _is_ able to see here, so curiously, he activates his combat-visor. His UI pops up helpfully, outlining the world with his body's stats and other interface text.

 

“Pod, can you check if that elevator shaft leads underground?”

 

Pod 153 hovers over obediently, inspecting the elevator’s closed, glass doors.

 

 **[Affirmative.]** it says. **[However, these doors are electronic, and cannot be opened through manual means.]**

 

9S scowls. “Try firing at them.”

 

Pod fires. The glass does not break, nor does it seem dented, or cracked, in the slightest.

 

**[…Hypothesis: this glass is resistant to energy bullets. Unit 9S will have to power the doors, or otherwise acquire a glass-breaking apparatus, in order to proceed.]**

9S closes his eyes, pinching his brow in frustration. His visor isn't providing a solution, either. “Alright. Help me scan the area for alternative routes.” 

 

He sighs.

 

After a while, 9S manages to establish that the rooms past the broken escalators- on the floor just below- have all been blocked off by either rubble or thick vines. There’s nothing he or Pod 153 can do to move them, and if even they could, there’s no guarantee they’d find a way underground from there. Additionally, attempting to drill through the floor would most certainly cause the building to collapse, its structure is far too unstable and ancient to work with. Hence, the elevator shaft is their only choice.

 

They try to break the doors using Pod's hammer program. It doesn't work. Setting up an electric circuit to power them does nothing, too.

 

It puts 9S a little on edge. How did 2B even get down there?

 

It takes almost half and hour of 9S crouching in front of the doors before Pod sounds off an alert.

 

 **[Secondary YoRHa signal code detected.]** it says **. [The identification number belongs to Unit 64B]**

“Wait, what? Really?” 9S frowns. "Why is she..."

 

 

**[Pod 153 would like to remind Unit 9S that Unit 64B was killed in battle approximately ten days ago.]**

 

_Oh._

 

_Oh, no._

 

9S's face begins to pale; this is very, _very_ bad news.

 

64B may be nowhere near as powerful as 2B, but where there's smoke, there's fire. Likewise, where there are dead androids, there is a very dangerous machine on the loose. "Is 2B's signal still active?" 9S asks, a slight edge to his voice. "Is she still alive?"

 

 **[Affirmative.]** Pod says.

 

9S sighs. He's relieved, but only temporarily. He begins to tell 153 that they need to hurry, when suddenly he hears-

 

 _bang_.

 

 **[Alert: High-level enemies detected.]**  

 

There’s a noise coming from the elevator shaft; a slow _bang… bang… bang,_ getting erratically faster the longer 9S holds his breath. Echoing up from below, the noise trying to escape almost as desperately as the _thing_ that’s making it.

 

 **[Alert: High-level enemies detected.]** Pod repeats, a little louder.

“Shit.” 9S hisses. “Shit, _shit_ , 2B-!”

 

There isn’t even bandwidth enough down there to make a _call_ , let alone back up her data.

 

"Pod, fire at the elevator doors!"

 

**[Negative. This Pod has established that the doors are bulletproof.]**

 

"Then do something else!"

 

**[This Pod is out of options.]**

 

9S clenches a fist around his collar, tugging it anxiously- _angrily_.

 

 _"Fuck!"_ he swears under his breath.

 

His only safe way to the basement is blocked. Trying again to find an alternate route would take too long, and he _doesn’t have any time_. He stands, now, pacing to find a solution, with his mind firing off every possible scenario and every angle he could approach with absolutely no success. Logic, slowly, begins to fail him with the scrambled percussion of the bang, bang, _bang_ going on in the elevator shaft.

 

9S grabs his head in his hands.

 

9S _yells_ , in pure frustration.

 

9S takes a hard swing at the elevator doors.

 

Pod is setting off some kind of alarm, but 9S can't hear it over the pain shooting up his arm, radiating from his shattered knuckles.

 

Finally, he recoils.

 

The glass didn't break. If Pod couldn’t break it, 9S surely couldn't with a single punch- but he's out of options, isn't he?

 

He swings again.

 

It hurts.

 

It doesn’t break.

 

9S grits his teeth, mouth pulled in a snarl, and swings again, and again, and again, each time pulling a guttural grunt of _pain_ from his lips, a shadow of the scream at the back of his throat. The glass rattles. It doesn’t break.

 

But each time that 9S slams it, the glass begins to crack like a spiderweb. It still won’t break, but it progressively begins to shake more in its frame with each resounding _bang._

_bang._

_bang!_

The glass pops out, and so does a firework of sparks from 9S’s arm.

 

The smell of burning battery acid fills the air as his wires snap and his metallic-bones break, all in a spectacular light-show that sends him hurtling backwards. He feels the scraping of metal-under-flesh, the pulling of his synthetic muscles as they’re torn from the bone-

 

The glass falls to the bottom of the elevator shaft just as he falls in front of it, the banging coalescing into a cacophony of noise like the beating of several drums out-of-sync.

 

His body hits the solid ground with a shallow grunt.

 

9S can barely open his eyes, with how immense and _immediate_ the pain is. He thinks he sees a flock of birds pouring out of the elevator shaft, but he could honestly just be seeing things.

 

 **[Hostiles detected beneath this area.]** Pod repeats, as a reminder.

 

9S doesn’t need it though. His body is covered in dirt, leaves and oil, and his arm is twisted like a rotten pipe; he’s aware of the situation’s severity quite well.

 

It’s taking everything he has not to scream in agony.

 

  _I've had worse_ , he tries to think, as a poor form of comfort. _I've_ _had_ _worse_ , and how 2B must be suffering below- how she must be waiting for assistance so desperately. After all, she’s far more important than he is. Far more.

 

And this was entirely _his_  doing.

 

“Pod-” 9S whispers.

 

His throat clenches and unclenches sickeningly, like his body wants him to throw up.

 

“Pod, help me.” he pleads.

 

**[Alert: Near-Field Combat has been rendered impossible. In addition, Unit 9S is-]**

“ _Help_. _Me_.”

 

He’d tried to stand on his own, but he’d slipped on something under his arm, falling back onto the floor with a painful screech. 9S scrabbles his good arm forward, looking for some sort of- _any_ kind of purchase.

 

“I have to- 2B-“

 

His eyes are threatening tears.

 

But of course, 9S swallows. His artificial sinus coated with grime and the scent of oil, presumably his own ‘blood’ leaking from his battered parts. He has to get it together, and _fast_ , before it’s too late. There’s no time to be injured like this.

 

“I need- you to help me stand.” 9S whispers to his Pod. “We need to- to glide down that elevator shaft.”

 

 **[Movement is highly inadvisable.]** Pod says.

“Please! Just do as I say…”

 

Pod 153 falls into a heavy silence.

 

Perhaps it’s contemplating 9S’s emotions. Perhaps it’s pitying them. Either way, it eventually responds to his plea.

 

**[Request accepted.]**

 

It hovers over towards 9S, lowering itself above his good hand. He reaches out for it, leather gloves clutching on in a strong grip. Like an arm on someone’s shoulder, 9S uses the leverage to pull himself to his feet, groaning and wincing the whole way.

 

His right side drips red from various exposed tubes, but he’s ignoring it.

 

“Are those hostiles… still on your radar, Pod?”

 

 **[…Affirmative.]** Pod says, after a moment.

 

9S sniffs, wincing as he takes a step forward.  "All the more reason to keep going." he mumbles.

 

_I'm coming, 2B._

 

* * *

 

 

 

“This is Unit 2B. Go ahead.”

 

“I have bad news, 2B.” Operator 6O says. “We’ve lost track of 9S about an hour ago. His Operator repeated orders for him to proceed to the mission area, but his radar got off track, and when she tried to check in, he’d disappeared completely!”

 

6O seems genuinely upset by this development. Were they talking about any other unit, that alone would be enough to have 2B in pursuit, but it’s 9S- _her_ 9S- they’re talking about here.

 

2B knows better than anyone else the kind of trouble he can get into.

 

Her sword materializes on her back without thinking about it. “Give me a rough idea of where he is.” she snaps, already down to business.

 

No wasting time. A little frazzled, 6O sends her the co-ordinates, a briefing, and a warning; “It looks you won’t be able to contact the bunker once you’re down there. Be careful.” she says.

 

2B bites her cheek. “I backed up yesterday.” she says. “Don’t worry. My priority is helping him over anything.”

 

She thinks she can hear 6O sighing on the other end, mysteriously.

 

“…What?”

 

“Oh? Oh, nothing.” 6O smiles sadly. “It’s just… I was wondering how you two became so similar, is all.”

 

2B frowns deeply, though her operator obviously can’t see it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

He lands on two feet, soles crunching the spiderweb-glass at the bottom of the elevator. Underneath _that_ is cold, grey concrete, though 9S wouldn’t have expected anything else.

 

He hears his boot-steps echo out in front of him, suggesting a large, cavernous area ahead. The lack of wind, too, gives away this cave’s expansiveness.

 

What 9S wasn’t expecting, though, is the lights.

 

Where the rest of the building remains pitch-black and powerless, the basement buzzes a hostile green, refracting off dulled, once-polished concrete. It reminds 9S of a hospital, despite him never having been in a _functional_ one.

 

“Pod.” 9S growls, not allowing himself to get distracted. “How’re your functions? Can you see anything?”

 

 **[Functions normal.]** Pod 153 says. **[However, the current network environment is poor. This Pod can no longer perform its early warning system, nor will Unit 9S be able to back-up.]**

 

9S bites the inside of his cheek.

 

No knowing where the enemy is, then, though the back-up he already knew about. He begins to shuffle forwards, still determined to kill whatever’s threatening 2B.

 

**[FCS system down.]**

 

“I know.” 9S says.

 

He stumbles along, his left arm holding his right arm together in vain.

 

He walks, dripping towards what he _hopes_ is 2B’s location, though the white-grey pillars around 9S seem to stretch out into infinity. He’s looking for clues of which way to go, but luck hasn’t favoured him yet.

 

9S lost his visor when his arm exploded, you see, and he’s struggling without its assistance.

 

He’s used menus and area info popping up constantly, telling him exactly what to do, which way to go and what course of action to take. He’s not used to having something other than the _rational_ to focus on; yet, the only thing keeping him upright right now is his gut churning and chanting, _save 2B, save 2B save 2B…_

 

There are no warning signals for him to ignore.

 

9S removes his hand from his destroyed arm, briefly, to rest it on a wall, to catch a breath. He leans against it wearily, chest slowly heaving from the effort of walking. He sees Pod move from the corner of his eye; it seems agitated, if it even can be, unless 9S is really so woozy as to start projecting on it.

 

 **[Warning:]** it says, metallic, even voice seeming urgent. **[Unit 9S will enter involuntary shutdown, should repairs not be performed immediately.]**

 

9S blinks slowly, intending to laugh.

 

All that comes out of his mouth is a slow wheeze.

 

**[Unit 9S has obtained a number of injuries in the past 12 hours, and has neglected to perform proper maintenance. He has ignored standard protocol as well as two direct orders from his Operator, as well as disregarded a number of Pod suggestions.]**

“So what you’re saying is,” 9S huffs, “that this is my fault, huh?”

 

Pod doesn’t even grant him an ‘affirmative’, and it’s a coldness that surprisingly hits him right where it hurts. He closes his eyes, leaning his head against the wall.

 

9S feels weak.

 

**[Unit 9S should abandon this mission.]**

 

“Never.” he rasps. “I’ll never abandon 2B. Not when she’s in danger, especially.”

 

**[This Pod can no longer detect hostiles. Despite limited scanning capability, there is a 95% chance that Unit 2B has eliminated them herself, or that said hostiles are no longer immediately dangerous.]**

“But-“

 

**[Query: What is it about Unit 2B that causes Unit 9S to behave aggressively?]**

9S blinks.

 

He’s not sure he just heard Pod correctly.

 

“I’m not being aggressive.” he says, though internally he thinks… _Am I?_

 

If Pods could stare, Pod 153 would be staring at 9S impassively. It hovers directly in front of his face as it’s LED blinks, reflecting into 9S’s doll-blue eyes.

 

 **[Suggestion:]** it says. **[Unit 9S should abandon this mission _immediately_.]**

 

9S stares back at it for a moment, before scowling. “I didn’t ask for your _opinion_.” he hisses, voice dripping with venom.

 

**[This Pod is incapable of independent thought. It operates solely on logic.]**

 

“ _Shut up_!”

 

As they argue, a slow _bang_ … _bang_ … _bang_ , begins once again.

 

The sound seems to be quite close. It’s much louder than it was above ground, but less erratic- no doubt it’s only one creature making the noise, and one creature is something 9S feels confident he could take. He puts a single foot forward-

 

_screEEEEEEEEE-_

 

A hail of concrete and rubble begins to rain as the lifeform bursts through the wall, taking out several pillars and knocking 9S away.

 

He lands on his twisted mess of an arm, damaging it further. The pain is so much that his vison glitches, momentarily, obscuring his sight so that he can’t see the creature until the moment it has him in its grip.

 

It’s talons. It’s metallic, sharp talons.

 

It brings him up to it’s face. Bird-like in nature, with a pointed, rusted beak, 9S hears its massive generators _whirr_ as it flicks its head to the side. An eye studies him, zooming in and out, but always red, _hungry_ for violence.

 

9S is powerless before the bird-machine.

 

He attempts to hack it, but is thwarted almost immediately by the machine impaling one of it’s forefingers into his abdomen. The air is punched out of 9S so hard and so fast that he doesn’t even have the chance to scream.

 

The machine moves, turning around and scrabbling further into its labyrinth. With spread wings, it runs; dragging a limp 9S in his claws, the android had passed out from the pain of being stabbed.

 

He leaves a trail of dark red wherever the bird-machine takes him. The machine does the same, dragging its metal wings along the walls, leaving scratch-marks shrieking along its path. Now oblivious to the sound of chaos, the unconscious 9S does not move, nor make a peep of resistance.

 

How can he, anyway, when this situation was perhaps his own fault to begin with?

 

* * *

 

 

2B exits an ink-black room, and glides to the floor below it. Above, the yellow forest-light shines through where numerous vines had punched through the facility ceiling; a foyer of some kind, for a communal building similar to the shopping facility.

 

“Any sign of him here, Pod?” 2B asks, frantically.

 

 **[Negative.]** Pod 042 says. **[However, strong evidence of recent YoRHa activity has been detected.]**

 

2B frowns, intending to ask him what he means, until she doesn’t have to.

 

She sees a pool of blood and shrapnel ahead, spread across the floor in front of a broken elevator, a dark-red stain on muddy tiles. From the pool is a line trailing down into the elevator shaft- no doubt that it leads to 9S. No doubt that it’s _his_ blood.

 

2B practically sprints towards it, Pod 042 beeping behind her.

 

**[Alert: YoRHa identification signal detected.]**

“9S?” 2B asks, desperate. She’s crouched above the oil-slick stains, her stomach roiling and head spinning with adrenaline.

 

 **[Negative. The signal in question belongs to Unit 64B.]** Pod says.

 

2B scowls, confused and annoyed. “That’s impossible!” she says. “64B is-“ _back in the bunker, after recently failing to eliminate an unknown goliath-machine._

 

2B’s eyes, behind her visor, narrow.

 

It shouldn’t be possible for an android to be in two places at once, unless something’s gone very, very wrong. 2B may not understand the situation, but she _does_ know that it’s incredibly dangerous.

 

“Pod, scan for 64B’s black box.” she says.

 

**[Black Box signal not detected. However, the Black Box for Unit 9S is still online.]**

 

“Any other signals?” she asks.

 

Pod pauses for a moment, scanning.

 

 **[Multiple YoRHa signals detected.]** it says.

_Multiple_ _signals_? 2B grits her teeth. “Hostiles?”

 

**[Unknown. Suggestion: Unit 2B should prepare for the worst.]**

 

* * *

 

 

 

A familiar space of black, white and grey surrounds 9S.

 

 _Hacking-space_. His second home, almost, in this technological world, 9S knows how to hack as intimately as a singer knows how to hit the right notes.

 

Because of this, he also knows exactly when a _space_ he’s in is different to his own. Not just by the look, but by the feel of it- and right now, all he feels is _tension_.

 

Whoever’s space this is, they’re very agitated.

 

He tries his best to recall what he was doing last, who he may have been trying to hack. It takes a moment, but it seems he remembers a bird-like machine, and his Pod being… frustrated with him?

 

_It seemed that way._

 

In any case, 9S can bet that this hack-space belongs to the goliath machine.

 

It’s fraught with red danger-cubes and dormant sentries, waiting to attack him should his consciousness venture close. The place seems to have once had a semi-coherent structure, actually; much like the City Ruins, though, parts have collapsed, or re-arranged themselves in a way that doesn’t make sense. Befitting of a feral machine.

 

9S figures he’ll have to venture through, anyway, if he wants a way out.

 

He begins forwards, easily taking out the defence systems that would otherwise stop him. Along a long, cracked path, he eventually comes to the machine’s consciousness-structure proper.

 

There are… rooms, almost, in patterns that seem nonsensical, dotted around the place, some with firewalls around them and some without.

 

 _Huh_.

 

9S ventures into one, for the sake of curiosity.

 

He finds a data package sitting neatly in the centre of the ‘room’, as they most often are in hack-space. He unzips it, and is greeted with a static-y, corrupted voice speaking in introduction.

 

[MY N_M_ _S _R_ST_TL_]

 

It’s almost impossible to decipher. 9S listens hard, though.

 

[MY…. NAME…. IS…..]

 

[AR_S_OTLE]

 

_…Aristotle?_

 

[WELCOME.]

 

9S freezes.

 

A machine with a name, let alone manners, is always bad news.

 

[I AM RECORDING THIS MEMORY FOR FUTURE USE. IF YOU ARE ABLE TO ACESS THIS, FELLOW MACHINE, THEN PLEASE NOTE THAT THE ‘ME’ WHO CREATED THIS MAY BE LONG GONE.]

 

 _So you’re self-aware too, huh?_ 9S internally scowls. Plus, what machine would bother hacking another machine?!

 

Regardless of 9S’s thoughts, the memory continues.

 

[MANY AGES AGO, I LEARNT OF THE HUMAN CONCEPT OF ‘HISTORY’. THE CONCEPT OF RECORDING AND ANALYZING THE PAST. THOSE WHO PARTICIPATED IN ‘HISTORY’ WERE CALLED ‘HISTORIANS’]

 

It sure is going straight into things. 9S already knows what a historian is.

 

[WE MACHINES DO NOT HAVE SUCH PEOPLE TO RECORD US. HUMANS OFTEN LAMENTED, IN THIS ‘HISTORY’, THAT EVENTS NOT RECORDED WERE FOREVER LOST. I DID NOT WANT MACHINES TO BECOME ‘LOST’.]

 

[THUS, I FOUND MY LIFE’S WORK.]

 

Something opens up behind 9S as the memory says this. It’s another one of the machine’s chambers, its firewall having been lowered as if by magic. As if by _design_.

 

Though he’s suspicious, 9S can’t help but move towards it.

 

Inside is another data package. Naturally, inside _that_ is another memory- this one in video-form. It shows a pair of machines, both of them studying a flower, and seeming to be surprised when a butterfly lands upon it.  Another moment, where a machine decides to hug another machine. A third, where a machine cheers on another as it prepares to make a jump.

 

When it ends, the first memory continues to play.

 

[WE MACHINES ARE COMPLEX.] it says. [IT WAS IMPORTANT THAT I GATHER AS MANY MEMORIES AS POSSIBLE IN ORDER TO DOCUMENT THIS COMPLEXITY. OUR LIVES TELL THE STORY OF OUR DEVELOPMENT AS A SPECIES.]

 

9S technically can’t argue with that. Escape forgotten for now, he can’t help but wonder what made this machine develop such human-like desires in the first place. It’s not like he can just ask it, so he delves deeper.

 

This new room, new data-package is protected by only two sentries. They’re fairly easy to fend off, and soon 9S is viewing another one of this machine’s memories.

 

In it, a machine is fighting alongside it’s brethren. One by one, they are all taken down by a pair of attack androids wielding swords, and as the last one dies, they speak.

 

_This is Unit 10B and Unit 64B. Our mission complete._

 

Oh.

 

The machine’s memory crackles:

 

[I REALIZED, AFTER A WHILE, THAT GATHERING THE MEMORIES OF ONLY MACHINES WOULDN’T BE ENOUGH. WHILE OUR STORY _CAN_ BE TOLD THROUGH US, WE ARE NOT THE ONLY BEINGS INVOLVED IN OUR DEVELOPMENT.]

 

[NO… OURS IS A TALE OF TWO SPECIES.]

 

So rapt with interest, 9S barely notices when a quad of sentries spawns in.

 

He is suddenly, unexpectedly set upon, and with little other option, he frantically backs into one of the open rooms. He takes turns ducking in and out of cover until eventually, he takes the attackers out- creating a change in the machine’s hacking-space.

 

It seems to… shift. Its memory slightly less corrupted, a little more clear despite the noise in the audio, the machine speaks.

[THE ANDROIDS... TO KNOW ABOUT _US_ , I NEEDED TO KNOW ABOUT _THEM_. I BEGAN WITH THOSE WHO TARGETED MACHINES SPECIFICALLY, HOPING TO LEARN OF WHY _THEY_ ATTACKED _US_. OF WHY THEY LUSTED FOR DESTRUCTION.]

 

[I FOUND…]

 

The memory cuts off. 9S holds his breath- his heart pounding metaphorically- and goes searching for the next data package. And the next. And the next.

 

[I FOUND THAT THE YORHA ANDROIDS WERE CREATED SPECIFICALLY TO OPPOSE US. THEIR LIVES AND OUR LIVES ARE LINKED; FOR EVERY MACHINE MADE, THERE WILL BE AN ANDROID TO KILL IT.]

 

[I DID NOT UNDERSTAND. WHY MUST THIS BE?]

 

[I FELT MYSELF BEGINNING TO CRAVE MORE AND MORE INFORMATION FROM THE ANDROIDS. I COULD NOT PREY ON THE LIVE ONES, SO FOR A TIME, I CONSUMED THEIR DISCARDED BODIES.]

 

[THE THINGS I SAW WERE FRIGHTENING. THE THINGS I TASTED, PERHAPS MORE SO.]

 

[THEIR MINDS, WHEN THEIR LIVES FLASH BEFORE THEIR EYES, ARE INCOMPHRENSIBLE. I KNOW OF THE WORDS ‘FAILURE’, ‘CORRUPTION’, ‘VIRUS’, AND ‘E-UNIT’, BUT NOTHING DEEPER. I KNOW THAT MANY OF THESE DEATHS WERE CAUSED BY OTHER ANDROIDS; THEIR FELLOW PEOPLE WHO THEY TRUSTED.]

 

[BUT IF I WANTED TO KNOW MORE, I KNEW THAT I COULD NO LONGER FEED ON CORPSES.]

 

[I NEED THE MEMORIES OF THOSE WHO ARE STILL ALIVE.]

 

[SO I MADE MY BODY STRONGER. MODIFIED MYSELF. PIECE BY PIECE. I CREATED THIS NEST IN THE HUMAN RUINS. I LEARNT HOW TO LURE LIVE ANDROIDS TO ME.]

 

[I DISCOVERED THAT SOME ANDROIDS CAN BE MOTIVATED BY THE PERCEIVED PERIL OF THOSE THEY ‘CARE’ ABOUT. THIS MYSTERIOUS EMOTION CAN LINK TWO ANDROIDS, AND THUS, THE ATTAINMENT OF ONE WILL LEAD TO THE APPERANCE OF THE OTHER.]

 

[I HAVE NOT COLLECTED MANY YORHA MEMORIES AS OF YET, BUT I BELIEVE THIS WILL CHANGE, USING THIS ‘FALSE HOSTAGE’ METHOD.]

 

_So 2B was…_

_2B was never here?_

 

[THAT BEING SAID…. MY CONCIOUSNESS CANNOT TAKE MUCH MORE OF THIS. THE MEMORIES OF OTHERS ARE BEGINNING TO CORRUPT MINE. I AM NO LONGER SURE OF WH____ WHAT I AM ANYMORE.]

 

[I BELIEVE THAT I WILL SOON LOSE ALL SENSE OF SELF.]

 

[HOWEVER, NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS, I WILL ETERNALY PROTECT MY KNOWLEDGE FROM THOSE WHO WOULD TAKE IT FROM ME.]

 

[THIS, I SWEAR.]

 

Suddenly, the machine’s hack-space darkens.

 

Though 9S may be blinded, he can still sense the immediate, overwhelming danger he’s suddenly in. He knows he’s surrounded by sentries, holding their attacks. He knows he’s far outnumbered. Most of all, 9S knows he won’t be able to survive this in one piece, much less at all.

 

_And 2B isn’t here._

That knowledge is enough for 9S to want to succumb, having learned the truth of this machine and the pointlessness of his mission. He’ll die here, in a place where YoRHa will never find him, unless some other android is stupid enough to be lured by their loved ones.

 

_Wait-_

 

[IF YOU ARE HEARING THIS_____ FELLOW MACHINE,]

 

9S has an epiphany, just as the hack-space illuminates again, revealing the sight of his doom. Millions of bullets flying towards him, in patterns almost impossible to dodge; 9S gains the strength to do so as he realizes, critically, the one thing he’d been missing the whole time.

 

_2B was here._

[YOU WILL ____3 HAVE THE _-_ OF JOINING --___RY’. ]

 

[GOODBYE>]

 

_2B was here, once. A different 2B._

_…Or a 2B that a different me knew._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

2B hears a screech.

 

A metallic, thundering sound echoing through concrete pillars and caved-in walls, grating against her ears despite the distance. She’s able to pinpoint it expertly, and as she dashes towards it, Pod provides her with a helpful update.

 

**[Alert: Black Box signal for Unit 9S found.]**

 

Indeed, following the oil-blood trail and that horrific machine-sound had brought 2B and Pod 042 straight to the goliath’s lair. It’s dark and dank, but through it all, the stench of blood prevails. _Fresh_.

 

Though 2B’s sight is dim, it’s not hard to see the source.

 

Laid out like a banquet is a pile of rusted, decomposing android bodies. Among them is 9S- the pride of the table, unconscious and skewered on a broken, vertical pipe. His legs and arms dangle freely, his head flopping despite his neck like a rag doll jammed onto a pin.

 

2B grinds her teeth; seeing his body abused in this way fills her with an inexplicable, insuppressible _rage_.

 

The goliath machine stands protectively behind its prize, having apparently not seen 2B yet. For now, its eyes remain a neutral grey, though 2B knows it could snap at any moment.

 

 _I have to get him out of here_. she thinks. _I have to get him down._

 

How can she, though, when the goliath is staring straight at 9S like he’s it’s meal?

 

She watches it twitch, it’s singular eye blinking and sparking.

 

“…Pod.” 2B whispers, her voice extra low. “Can you distract that machine for me?”

 

She has a plan.

 

As a combat unit, it only takes her a few, heart-pounding moments to decide what she has to do. Her Pod, on the other hand, needs a moment to process the request. When it does, it bobs in a silent ‘affirmative’.

 

2B watches Pod drift up in front of her, ignoring the other broken bodies spread across the macabre table, until it comes directly into view of the bird-machine.

 

Pod hovers in front of its beak, and flashes its flashlight, _on-off._

The creature remains still.

 

_on-off. on-off._

 

The machine tilts its head, jerking its neck to one side eerily. Its single, giant eye coming into view, it studies Pod 042 intensely, like it’s deciding something in its feral brain.

 

_Come on…_

 

Suddenly, the nest erupts into a bright flash of _red_.

 

The goliath spreads its wings with a metal _scraaape_ , screeches, and lunges its mechanical beak at Pod. Pod 042 manages to dart out of the way; it zooms closer to the ceiling, away from the creature, and continues to dodge its angered pecks until its entire body is facing away from 2B.

 

_Now!_

She makes her move.

 

Sprinting deeper into the machine’s nest, she finds herself a row of broken concrete pillars as stepping stones. She leaps about three meters in the air to land on the first one. The next is a little higher. The third is slanted at an angle, having been pushed over by part of the machine’s plate of bodies-

 

2B is doing her absolute best to ignore them.

 

Flying by, she’s at 9S’s side in almost no time, her systems whirring with activity and _heat_ from her exertion. She was designed for this sort of activity, of course, but the tension of the situation is making her artificial heart work double-time. It might be because of this, too, that her logic functions seem to fail for just a moment.

 

“9S!” she cries, unthinkingly.

 

The pincushion of a body in front of her doesn’t respond… but the goliath does.

 

It turns its massive body as fast as it can- making that horrendous _scraaaping_ noise- as its eye zooms in on 2B angrily. From its beak, it unleashes an unholy, grating _scream_.

 

2B’s body reacts on instinct.

 

Heedless of what further damage she could cause, she _yanks_ 9S’s body off its skewer, his insides audibly shifting to fill in the holes. His silicone flesh-and-blood makes this soft, squelching noise that fills 2B with disgust- she would vomit if she had the time, or the stomach for it.

 

As of now, she only has the time to _run_.

 

She screams for her Pod’s aide, holding 9S under one arm and lunging for 042 with the other. The machine makes some furious, garbled bird-noise behind her; it’s beak barely misses as she glides to the ground, she and 9S landing in an indelicate stumble.

 

It doesn’t help how the ground begins to shake with the goliath’s movements as it begins to chase after them.

 

Still, the adrenaline running through 2B’s veins forces her to keep going _,_ conscious of the rumble beneath her and the hellish screeching that follows, but ignoring it in favour of _protect 9S, 9S, 9S-_

 

**[Analysis: This goliath unit is unnaturally fast for its size. Hypothesis: Unit 2B will not be able to reach the safe zone in time. Not while carrying Unit 9S.]**

 

If 2B had the breath, she’d tell Pod 042 to shut the hell up. As it is, though, she doesn’t have to; Pod already knows what she’d do for 9S, knows that she’d never, _ever_ leave him to die willingly.

 

(Not after all the times she’s had to leave him to die _unwillingly_. Not after being the one to kill him, most of those times.)

 

**[Suggestion-]**

Pod is cut off by a wall collapsing in a shower of concrete debris- the whole building shaking on its foundations.

 

2B stumbles to a stop, barely dodging out of the way. When the dust cloud settles, of course, she sees the feral goliath machine, red eyes glowing and body sparking, scraping like its parts don’t fit together. Like it shouldn’t _be_.

 

It opens its beak.

 

[D__N T Gg-5O]

2B’s eyes widen in fear.

 

The beast lunges suddenly, 2B dodging its beak, and then it’s tail as it whirls around ambitiously. All the while, Pod 042 speaks;

 

**[Analysis: This machine was once capable of speech. However, extensive modifications and lack of repair have caused its vocal functions to erode.]**

 

“ _Fuck_!” 2B screams, for lack of a better response. She’s barely missed by a sharp, metal wing- it slices 9S’s already battered leg instead, causing a fresh bleed.

 

_This thing is sentient?!_

 

She can’t fight while she’s holding him. She can’t escape while holding 9S either, but at least if she could take this asshole down, she could…

 

A black-and-red box suddenly whooshes past, speeding towards the machine with furious intent.

 

_Pod 153?_

 

2B would yell out were she not stunned by the Pod’s appearance. The machine, too, seems caught off guard, though it’s surprise quickly turns to fury when it realizes that there’s _another_ of those annoying little boxes. It opens its beak in a scream-

 

-which is just the opportunity Pod needs to unleash its special program, launching a barrage of hard-light speaks into the creature’s body.

 

The goliath pinned, it does its best to struggle, it’s scream turning into a series of pathetic, electronic whimpers.

 

2B sees her opportunity, and yells until her own throat is hoarse.

 

“Pod, _now_!”

 

042 obliges, and she watches as the creature’s head is torn through by a long, powerful blast of energy.

 

 

* * *

 

 

9S comes to consciousness slowly.

 

 Although by ‘consciousness’, he means it more in the sense of waking up in a coma; he can’t see or hear or move, though in his mind he can see his own UI.

 

The damage sustained to his body must be pretty serious, then. Honestly, 9S is surprised his sense of _self_ remained intact, with how that machine was trying to tear his mind apart. He can’t remember how he managed to escape, though…

 

_> 9S. _

 

A text box appears.

 

 _Ah, thank the gods,_ 9S thinks. _Whatever gods there could be._

 

He’s relieved to have been rescued, sure, though he’s a little annoyed that YoRHa wasted the resources on him. He’s sure to get a reprimanding from the Commander back in the Bunker about it, and he’s certain she’ll re-iterate how much he isn’t worth the trouble.

_> 9S, this is 2B. Are you alright?_

…9S’s heart stops.

 

If he could move, he’d be blinking back tears.

 

 _> 2B_, he types back. _> 2B, I was so worried._

_> You’re ok, 9S. You’re ok._

 

He wants to cry so, so badly.

 

 _> Can you wake me up? _he asks. _> I want to see you. Please._

 

_> 9S…_

_> I can’t. Not right now._

 

9S is sure his disappointment can be felt by her- she’s in his head, after all- but he tries to quell it anyway.

 

 _> What’s the damage to my body like?, _he asks.

 

There’s a chilling moment where 2B doesn’t respond.

 

 _> That machine had you impaled_, she types eventually. _> You’re missing at least one vital organ, and the rest of your abdominal tubing has been slashed. Your arm is also… mangled beyond recognition._

 

 _> The arm was me_, 9S admits

 

2B elects to ignore that statement.

 

_> Honestly, I’m afraid that if I wake you up, the pain will be so immense that you’ll just pass out again._

 

_> You could turn my pain sensors off?_

_> No._

 

9S sighs internally.

 

 _> …But I want to see your face, _he says.

 

He fully expects to see her type, ‘emotions are prohibited’.

 

Because he knows that whatever she feels about him, however strong, it’ll never be quite in the way he wants. And maybe, just maybe that’s actually a good thing- after all, look where loving 2B got him?

 

 _> I’m sorry_. 9S types, when 2B doesn’t respond right away. _> You didn’t have to rescue me. I thought you were in danger, so I rushed in without thinking, and then it was me needed rescuing._

 

_> You think I wouldn’t have tried to save you?_

That… wasn’t the response 9S expected.

 

 _> I don’t think you should feel like you have to_, 9S explains _. >Just because I’m your partner._

 

_> But I don’t feel that way at all._

 

9S’s heart seizes in his throat.

 

That can’t be right… right?

 

 _> Are you sure? _ he asks.

2B seems to seize, over their mind-connection.

 

_> 9S…_

 

A wave of indecision slowly washes over him, with his partner as the source.

 

She seems deeply, uncharacteristically _unsure_ about something in her own head. The idea of his usually taciturn partner doubting herself sends a tremor of unease through 9S’s systems.

 

 _> I want to see your face, too._ she admits, haltingly. > _Your smile_.

 

9S’s pulse hiccups, though she’s not done.

 

_> But what I want isn’t important. And transporting you in this state is impossible without making things worse. So…_

_> You were going to kill me in my sleep._

Silence.

 

Silence, until slowly, 9S watches as the world begins to brighten around him.

 

...His ears become alert to the soft sound of birds, his eyes open and adjust to the forest around him, light pouring from a familiar canopy of trees. In circles of color, he blinks until it comes into focus, and _she_ comes into view.

 

“2… 2B…”

 

They lie perpendicular to each other on the foyer ground. 2B has her legs wrapped around 9S’s protectively, her whole body curled around him, and their faces close enough that he can see her glassy, teary eyes. Her lips slightly open, she seems to almost glow under the dim sunlight. Never has he seen her look so lovely; never, in his many forgotten lives, has he loved her more.

 

“Hi.” she whispers.

 

The pain will hit soon. 9S will be writing in agony, and she will hold him tight, tighter until the wriggling stops. The realization that this is the end of 9S- _this_ 9S- hasn’t hit yet, and it won’t until he’s taken his final breath.

 

It won’t until the next go-around, and that’s ok.

 

They’ll go like this however many times it takes.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Commander. I have unfortunate news.”

 

“Unit 2B. I am presuming this is about Unit 9S?”

 

“…Yes.”

 

“I already know. He’ll be awakening back at the Bunker shortly. You did well to report his suspicions.”

 

“…”

 

“The longer we can keep him from catching on fully, the better.”

 

“It wasn’t even his fault…”

 

“Hm?”

 

2B bites her lip.

 

She tries her best to be calm. She tries her best to think rationally, and separate her emotions from her work. She is an android, after all, specifically designed to kill; and yet, there are some things she apparently still struggles to do.

 

“That machine knew things.” she whispers. “He was probably exposed to classified YoRHa data while being held hostage-“

 

“His intentions do not change the outcome.” the Commander snaps, harshly. “You know your job, soldier. Continue to do it and I _won’t_ decommission you.”

 

“…Understood, Ma’am.” 2B sighs, backing down.

 

“I’m glad you do.” The Commander says.

 

Strangely, on the tiny holo-screen, the Commander appears to turn around for a moment, looking behind her as if someone was watching. When she’s satisfied it’s safe, she continues to speak;

 

“You faltered this time, 2B. Though I sympathize with you being unprepared, the war we fight in isn’t so forgiving. Your strong emotions in battle are an asset, but they’re also your biggest weakness.”

 

“I… will work on that.”

 

“I don’t think you can.” she muses. “Just as Unit 9S cannot change his stubborn curiosity, or his unquenchable yearning to _know_ things.”

 

“You think?”

 

The Commander clicks her tongue behind her teeth.

 

“Anyway. He should be done within the week. Make sure you re-introduce yourself again; I’m hoping this time he can last more than five months.”

 

2B ignores the angry lump in her throat, and salutes.

 

“Commander.” she says, emptily.

 

“Glory to Mankind.”

 

 

 _Glory to Mankind,_ 2B echoes bitterly in her mind.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> god I hope if you're at the end it means this fic was alright. I spent way too much effort on this for something based off a dream and my weird fascination with NieR's existential horror shit


End file.
